


Murphy's Law

by castielanderson



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-29
Updated: 2012-12-29
Packaged: 2017-11-22 19:56:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/613659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielanderson/pseuds/castielanderson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Murphy’s Law states that if something can go wrong - it will.  Dean takes Cas out on their first date, and nothing goes as planned. Unbeta’d.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Murphy's Law

**Author's Note:**

> For Cassie's (catstiel.tumblr.com) prompt: dean and cas going on their first date and its kind of a trainwreck but cas has never been on a real date so he doesnt really know the difference

Dean’s stomach is crawling with nerves.  It’s strange; he’s not used to this yet – being in love.  He’s not used to tender kisses and lingering fingertips.  He’s not used to the ache in his gut when Cas isn’t with him, or the skip in his heartbeat when they’re reunited.  It’s strange – being like this with Cas, but at the same time, it feels like he’s finally whole.

Cas has been quiet the entire ride, and though Dean knows it’s just his personality, he can’t help but feel on edge.  It’s their first date, the first  _real_ date that Dean’s ever been on.  They’re going to dinner and a movie – a  _nice_  dinner and a feel-good movie perfect for hand-holding and arms around shoulders.  It’s cheesy, but it’s also Cas, and he’s never had a real human experience like this.  He deserves it, _they_ deserve it.

The streets are busy, but Dean manages to squeeze the Impala into an open spot outside the restaurant.  He kills the engine and looks to Cas eagerly, grinning.

“You ready?” he asks.

Cas nods.

Dean nods back, nervous.  He exits the car and hurries around to Cas’ side to open the door for him.  He holds out his hand, and Cas takes it.  As they walk up to the front doors, Dean entwines their fingers, feeling some of the tension leave his body.  The windows are glowing bright, and inside people are talking and laughing, and finally, Dean feels like this could work.

Music is playing softly over the loudspeakers, and a warm rush of air swirls around them as they step inside, battling the drafts they’ve just let in.  Dean walks up to the podium, waiting for the host to return from sitting another couple.

“I’m sorry,” the guy says as he makes his way back to them.  “Names, please?”

“Winchester,” Dean replies, and he gives Cas’ hand a little squeeze.

The guy looks over the list, lips pursed.  “I’m sorry,” he says, pulling his head up, “but I don’t see your name here.”

“Maybe you misspelled it,” Dean says, feeling a sense of panic rise within him.  “My first name’s Dean – so if you see anything that looks remotely like Dean Winchester – “

The guy checks again, and Dean taps his foot impatiently.

“Nope.  I’m sorry.”

“There’s got to be a mistake,” Dean says, letting go of Cas’ hand and stepping forward.  “I made these reservations a week ago.”

“For seven-thirty?” the host asks, and Dean nods.

“Seven-thirty.  I spoke to the dude for like twenty minutes; I know I made these reservations.” 

He’s quickly becoming less fearful and increasingly irritated.  This is not how the night is supposed to start off.  He and Cas are supposed to go sit down and eat – or, pretend to eat – and they’re supposed to people watch and make fun of all the uptight assholes in this joint. 

“I’m sorry, sir,” the host replies, though he’s anything but sincere, “but I can’t seat you without reservations.”

“Come on,” Dean says, starting to feel desperate.  “Can’t you just turn your head and let us in?  Man, I know I called in ahead of time.  I’m not making this up.”

“I trust that you aren’t – “

“Then why can’t you let us in?’

“Sir, you don’t have reservations – “

Dean lets out a loud, obnoxious huff.  “Look, man – “

“Dean.”

Dean hesitates, looking back at Cas – who’s placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder.

“Dean, it’s okay,” Cas tries to reassure.  “We don’t have to eat here.”

“Cas,” Dean sighs, but immediately his expression goes softer, his voice lowering to a more appropriate tone.  “Ugh – this is supposed to be a special night.”

“We can still make it so someplace other than here,” Cas points out, and after a moment, Dean gives in.  Cas is right.  He doesn’t have to be making such a big deal out of this.  Sure, he would like to have gone someplace as fancy as this, but Olive Garden isn’t  _that_  lame, and it’s certainly better than some fast food place.

Dean glances back at the host, giving him a glare that lets him know he’s still on Dean’s list, but he relaxes a little as he follows Cas back out to the car.  As it turns out, Olive Garden has a waiting list of an hour and a half, so instead, they end up at the burger joint next door.  Of course, Castiel doesn’t care, but Dean’s disappointed.  He can have a burger any night, but this is a  _date_.  He wanted something classier.

But they need to get going if they’re going to make their movie, so Dean orders a burger and tries to eat it fast without being disgusting about it.  He stops in the middle of this third bite, disturbed.

“What?” Castiel asks, and Dean smirks, pleased by Cas’ ever-present overprotectiveness.

“Nothing,” he mutters.  “Just tastes funny.  Should’ve expected it.  This place is ten shades of sketchy.”

He continues to eat, hurrying up the pace, and soon enough, he’s wrapping up his garbage and tossing it in the trash cans by the door, Cas following after him.  He turns back, and wraps an arm around Cas’ waist as they walk. 

“Now we get to the good part,” he says with a mischievous grin.  “Sitting in the back of a movie theater and not watching the movie.”

Cas looks over to him, curious.  “Why would we pay money for tickets to a movie and not actually watch the program?”

Dean’s smirk grows.  “Oh, you’ll see, Cas,” he promises.  “You’ll see.”

Dean opens the passenger side door for Cas before he gets into the car himself.  He pulls the keys from his pocket, puts them in the ignition, and –

nothing.

The engine rattles and shakes and splutters, but doesn’t start.  Dean tries again, and again, and again before slamming his hand against the dash and letting out a string of curse words.

“Are you serious?” he asks aloud. 

“What’s the problem, Dean?” Cas asks, and Dean lets out a frustrated sigh.

“The goddamn engine died,” Dean mutters, yanking the keys from the ignition.  He leans back in his seat, eyes flickering toward the controls.  “Goddamnit.  I left my lights on.” 

He closes his eyes, feeling his blood boiling.  No, he’s not going to let this ruin his night.  He’s still on a date with Cas.  The night is still young, and there are still things to do.  He can still make of the most of this, and he owes it to Cas to at least try.  He counts to ten, breathing deep. 

“Well, I could probably call Sam to come jump me, but we need to get going if we’re going to make the movie.  It’s only like five blocks, so we could just walk.”  He looks over to Cas, hoping he can read the apologetic look on his face.  “Would you mind walking?”

Cas shakes his head.  “Not at all.”

Dean tries to breathe a little easier as they get out of the car.  He’s still feeling on edge, still on the verge of a blowout, but it’s fine.  It really is.  Cas is handling everything just fine, and Dean should too.  So things aren’t really going as Dean planned?  It’s not the end of the world, and it’s most certainly not the end of their date.

As they walk down the sidewalk, Cas is the one to reach out and slide his fingers around Dean’s.  He smiles when Dean glances over it him, and Dean feels his frustration melt away.  With the feel of Cas’ hand in his and the knowledge that no matter what happens in town, the end of the night is sure to end fantastically at the motel, he feels a little better.

That is, until it starts raining.

The first drop hits Dean’s skin like a bullet, penetrating his calm façade.  He visibly flinches, and Cas gives his hand a squeeze.  While it’s just barely drizzling, Dean keeps his cool, but then it starts pouring, and he’s about ready to break down.  He stops in his tracks, yanking his hand from Cas’.

He looks up at the sky, shaking his head, “Honestly?  Do we really have to fucking do this right now?”

Cas lays a gentle hand on his arm, and says quietly, “Dean.  I can dry you off when we get to the theater.”

Dean closes his eyes again, breathing heavily.  “I’m sorry,” he says.  “It’s just – “

“I know,” Cas says softly.  “I know you’re frustrated, Dean, but we have a date to finish.”

Dean nods, opening his eyes back up.  “You’re right,” he says, voice even.  “You’re absolutely right.”

He takes Cas’ hand again and, right at that moment, a car comes to a halting stop along the curb, splashing dirty water all over both of them.  Dean doesn’t even react.  He just stands there, fuming, until Castiel begins to pull him along.  

Soon, but not soon enough, they’re at the movie theater, and with one swipe of his fingers, Castiel dries both of them off.  They head inside, and Dean’s so eager to sit down for an hour.  This date is exhausting him, and he just wants to take a moment or two to relax with Cas.

But of course –  _of course_ – they’re too late for the romcom Dean was planning to see.  The only thing left open right now is a horror movie, and defeated, Dean buys tickets for it.  Whatever.  They can still make out in the back.  Everyone will be too enthralled in the dumb thrill of it all to notice them.

Except, when they enter the theater, the back row is filled.  The only place left for them is in the second row.  Squeezed between a very heavyset man and an old couple who gives them shifty looks as they sit down.  As Dean settles in his seat, he feels highly uncomfortable.  Mrs.  Turkey Jowls on his right is glaring at the pair of them, and Dean knows she’s probably thinking up a load of slurs she’d like to say to them right now. 

Evidently Cas doesn’t notice, because he keeps a hand over Dean’s as they sit down.  After a couple of minutes, Mrs. Turkey Jowls’ husband coughs heavily.  Dean and Cas stay put, and he coughs again.  Dean tells himself to ignore it, but after the fifth time, he’s had enough.

“Do you have a problem with us?” he asks, leaning forward.

A load of people hiss at him to be quiet, but he doesn’t care.

“There are children in here,” the man mutters back.  “At least show some decency.”

“We’re being perfectly decent,” Dean snaps.  He feels Cas’ hand come up and press against his chest, but he ignores it.  “We’re only holding hands for Christ’s sake.”

“Nothing is decent about two men showing affection,” the man growls.

“Right, right,” Dean says, voice dripping with sarcasm.  “But showing shit like this to children is just fine.”   He gestures to the screen, where a zombie promptly rips off some little girl’s head.  “Oh yeah, that’s great.  Mmmm. Brainless death and destruction, but I can’t show anyone how much I love and care about my partner.  That’s real logical.”

Dean leans back in seat with a huff, and thankfully, the old couple doesn’t bother him and Cas again.  However, the guy to Dean’s left can’t seem to contain his fright.  With every twist and turn of the very predictable plot, he screams and reaches out, gripping Dean’s arm or pressing up against him.  Dean tries to push him away a couple of times and even outright tells him to back off, but he doesn’t listen. 

By the middle of the movie, Dean’s starting to feel overwhelmed.  Between the homophobic old couple and the continuous screams and the guy pissing his pants next to Dean and the hot temperature of the room, he feels like he’s losing it.  And on top of everything, he’s starting to feel nauseous.  That dinner isn’t really sitting right with him, and his head’s begun to spin.  Dean blinks hard a couple of times, trying to focus his attention on anything but the growing ache in his stomach.  However, it doesn’t work, and soon enough, Dean’s shimmying out of his seat and bolting from the theater as bile rises in his throat.

He makes it to the men’s room just in time, falling to his knees as he empties his stomach of whatever rancid meat he choked down.  His whole body shakes with the effort to get it up, leaving Dean sweaty and weak when he’s finished.

“Dean?”

Castiel’s footsteps clack against the tiled floor, and Dean tries to speak, but only lets out a groan.  In seconds, Cas is crouched down next to Dean, resting a comforting hand on his back.

“You’re ill,” he states, and Dean takes it as his cue to lurch forward as he throws up again.

“It’s that damn burger,” he mutters through clenched teeth.  “Food poisoning.”

Castiel’s fingers press lightly on Dean’s cheek and forehead.  “You’re body temperature has risen,” Cas remarks.  “I think we should go back to the motel, Dean.  You need rest.”

Dean collapses to his knees, ready to agree, when they hear a scream. 

“That came from the women’s bathroom,” Dean remarks, and Cas freezes, a focused expression overcoming his face. 

“That’s not human,” he says quietly, and just like that, they shift into hunter mode.

Dean gets unsteadily to his feet and flushes the toilet.  He follows Cas next door, reaching into his pocket for the knife that’s tucked away.  Cas looks to him curiously as he slips it out, but Dean shrugs and he doesn’t ask.  Dean kicks the door to the bathroom open, holding the knife at the ready as they move inside. 

Cowering against the back wall is a young girl – late teens, most likely.  A man stands over her, the blood on his hands matching the blood smeared on the girl’s face, and the blood she’s currently coughing up.

“Hey,” Dean shouts.  “Get away from her.”

The guy turns, eyes flashing, and that’s when Dean knows he’s a shifter.    He makes a move for the two of them, but Dean smirks when Cas takes one step forehead and presses his hand against the shifter’s head. 

“You’re messing with the wrong guys, buddy.”

Within a second, he’s fried, dropping to the ground as Dean tucks his knife back into his pocket.  Cas leans down and waves his hand, and with a burst of light, the body disappears, no trace of a monster left behind. 

“What – what did you do to him?” the girl asks, staring at Cas and Dean with wide eyes.

“Smote him,” Dean answers.

“You – you what?”

“He’s dead,” Dean clarifies.  “And he’s not going to bother you anymore.”

The girl stares at the place where the shifter disappeared.  Tears are rolling down her cheeks, and Dean approaches her carefully. 

“Hey – hey, look at me,” he says gently.  He crouches down, reaching out and pressing a hand to her shoulder.  “You okay?”

She shakes her head.  “I – I don’t understand.  Jeremy, he – he never – he wasn’t ever an abusive boyfriend.  I don’t – I don’t – “

“What’s your name?” Dean asks calmly.

“Nellie,” she replies, and Dean nods.

“Look, Nellie, that – that  _thing_  – it wasn’t Jeremy.  It was a shifter who took on his appearance, okay?  And we – we should probably make sure Jeremy’s alright.  Is there any way we can reach him, Nellie?”

She nods, handing out her cell phone.  “His number’s in there.”

Dean takes it from her, and looks back at Cas.  “Cas, will you call him?  I’m gonna get her cleaned off.”

Cas nods, taking the cell phone from Dean. 

“How you feeling?” Dean asks, turning back to Nellie.  “How bad did he hurt you?”

“Not bad,” Nellie says shakily.  “Just – he just hit me a few times.”

Dean nods.  “Well, if you need us to take you to the hospital – “

“I don’t,” Nellie assures.  “I honestly just want to go home.”

“Understandable,” Dean says.  He stands up and heads into one of the stalls to grab a wad of toilet paper.  He runs it under some cool water before sitting crouching down next to Nellie again and wiping some of the blood off of her face. 

Cas returns within in a minute, holding the phone out for Nellie.

“Jeremy’s fine,” he reports.  “He’s safe at home.  He wasn’t even aware he had a date tonight.”

Nellie looks horrified as she puts two and two together.  “That means I – it was the shifter when I – “

Dean nods, shrugging.  “It happens.  Now, do you need a ride home?”

Nellie takes a second to think, terror melting into exasperation as she says, “Yes.  Yes, that would be great.”  She pushes herself up, wiping at the last remaining blood on her lip.

Dean joins her, and spots dance across his vision, forcing him to throw his hand out as he leans against the wall for support.  Cas is hovering over him instantly, his hand gripping Dean’s elbow.

“Dean?” he asks.  “Dean, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Dean chokes out.

“You’re still feeling ill, aren’t you?” Cas says, and it’s more of a statement than a question.  “Let’s call Sam.  We need him to help with your car, right?  You can rest after we take Nellie home.”

Dean nods, swallowing back the nausea as he follows Cas outside.  As Cas calls Sam, Dean sits down and puts his head between his knees.  He breathes deeply a few times, closing his eyes.  The nausea’s making a violent comeback, and he _really_  doesn’t want to throw up again. 

“So – what’s the story?” 

Dean looks up as Nellie sits down next to him.  She’s calmer now, less shaky, and Dean’s glad to see the small smirk on her face.

“What?” he asks, giving himself a shake.

“You and him,” Nellie says, nodding at Cas.

Dean understands then, and he feels a blush creeping into his cheeks.  “How’d you know?”

“Oh, come on,” Nellie says, rolling her eyes.  “I could see how protective you are of each other.”

Dean looks down, chewing on his lip.  “We’ve been together for three months.”  But it’s felt like much, much longer.  It’s only been three months since they stopped being stupid and actually did something about what’s between them.

“How’d you meet?” Nellie asks, and Dean just laughs.  “What?”

Dean shakes his head.  “It’s – let’s just say that I – I was … in a bad place, and he found me when I was down.  He – he saved me, I guess I would say.”

Nellie nods.  “Well, good luck to both of you.  You seem like a good pair.”

“Thanks,” Dean says as looks over at Cas as he stares at the phone.  He’s turned on speakerphone somehow, and can’t seem to figure out how to shut off it off.

 _“Cas?”_   Sam is saying.  _“Cas – nevermind.  I’ll – I’ll be there in a second, ‘kay?”_

“Okay,” Cas replies, and he sighs, defeated, as the call ends.

Dean shakes his head, laughing quietly. 

Sam shows up pretty quickly with a pair of jumper cables and offers to drive when Cas informs him that Dean’s not feeling well.  Nellie takes shotgun, and Dean rides in the back with Cas.  He lies down with his head in Cas’ lap, trying to ignore the way the car shakes as they drive.

Nellie doesn’t live too far way, thank God, and soon, they’re back at the motel.  Cas helps Dean out of the car and into the motel room where he collapses into bed, not even bothering to kick off his shoes or shrug out of his suit jacket.  Cas places trash can on the floor next to him before sitting down at Dean’s feet.  Dean stares at him a moment, the last few hours rushing back to him.

“Cas, I’m sorry,” he says after a moment.

He looks at Dean quizzically.  “Why?  For being ill?  That’s hardly your fault, Dean.”

“No, for this whole date,” Dean explains with a heavy sigh.  “This was supposed to special.  It was supposed to be you and me being stupidly romantic for a couple of hours, and everything got ruined, and I’m sorry.  I wanted you to have an amazing first date, and it turned out awful.”

Cas smiles, shaking his head.  “Dean, I don’t think it was awful.”

Dean raises an eyebrow.  “Really?”

Cas nods, and he scoots forward, lying down next to Dean.  “I really enjoyed it, to be honest.  I know people say, ‘it’s the thought that counts,’ and I couldn’t agree more.  You went through so much trouble to allow me this experience, and I appreciate it more than you can imagine, Dean.  I don’t care that it turned out the way it did.  Being with you, knowing that you cared that much – it was enough.”

Dean smiles lazily up at Cas.  “I love you, you know that?”

Cas leans down, pressing a soft kiss to Dean’s forehead.  “I think you’ve mentioned it.  I love you too, Dean.”


End file.
